Faking It (2 page)

He’d somehow managed to command Stephanie, at least. She hadn’t even realized she was moving, skittering along and nearly tripping over her heels, until they were almost on the opposite sidewalk.

“Um,” she said. “Thanks.”

“It was nothing.” He scanned the length of the street, eyes distant, preoccupied. “Would you like me to call you a cab?”

“No, I—” She’d started to say she couldn’t afford a cab, but flushed and bit her tongue. “I’m meeting someone. For lunch. Near here. I can run. I can’t get any wetter than I already am.”

His gaze returned to her. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. His eyes said it all, dipping down her body and lingering on the way the thin linen suit clung to her chest.

Maybe I should just crawl into a hole and die right now.

“I mean—I—damn it.” She couldn’t help but laugh helplessly. “This is karma. It has to be. I got through a whole presentation without tripping over my tongue. Had to balance it out somehow.”

Again that twitch of his lips. Did he not know how to smile? “Sounds perfectly logical.”

“It sounds crazy. You don’t have to humor me.” She smiled sheepishly. “Thanks for the rescue, but I’m heading this way.” She wiggled her fingers in the direction of the restaurant and ducked out from under the umbrella, pulling her arm from his grasp. Not the most graceful exit, backing away with raindrops plopping on her head and dripping down her nose, but better than standing there and finding out just how far she could shove a Manolo heel down her throat.

She turned her back on him and walked away as quickly as she could. A soft scuff of footsteps warned her just before he fell into stride with her again, and the rain stopped once more. She nearly tripped over her toes and stumbled to a halt, eyes wide.

“Look, it’s really nice of you to play the gentleman, but…”

“…but I am already going this way.” He shrugged one broad shoulder. “But if you enjoy pneumonia…”

“Point taken.”

Her nervous little laugh was met with only silence. She clamped her mouth shut, folded her arms over her damp chest, and hunched into herself. This was mortifying. Getting chaperoned to lunch by a total stranger who decided to take pity on the walking disaster. It wouldn’t be quite so embarrassing if he wasn’t so gorgeous. She must be making a great first impression: soaked down to her panties, hair drenched and sticking to her face, make-up running everywhere. She wished she’d spent the extra two dollars for the waterproof mascara.

She glanced at him sidelong, but he was looking straight ahead. The left shoulder of his dark suit was somehow darker, and she realized— “You’re getting your suit wet!”

He shrugged. “Water dries.”

“That suit had to cost ten thousand dollars!”

“Did it?” He glanced down at himself, lips thinning slightly. “I didn’t check the receipt.”

How nice for you,
she thought, but bit her tongue. She seemed to be doing that a lot today. “Still. At least let me pay for your dry cleaning, mister…?”

“Rory,” he said. “Derek Rory.”

“Stephanie Miller,” she said, then fumbled in her purse until she found one of her business cards. “Here. So you can send me the bill.”

He tucked the card in his pocket without looking at it. He was probably used to women finding ways to give him their number. God, she hoped he didn’t think it was a pickup line.

With the way her day was going, the last thing she needed was an awkward rejection. She still had the investor meeting this afternoon, and after the storm, karma owed her a few points on the good side.

But all he said was, “You’re cold.”

“What?”

“You’re shivering.” He started to shrug out of his jacket. “You’ll catch sick.”

She held her hands up and forced a smile. “That’s really not necessary. Besides, here’s my stop.” She gestured at the TGIFriday’s across the street. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

Still he remained silent. But with the way his eyes drifted over her again, she suddenly wasn’t feeling very cold at all, and her breath caught. Her pulse felt like a little drum inside her throat, and as if he could hear it, his gaze lingered on her neck. She flushed.

“Right, well…I’ll just be going. Yep. Thanks again, Mr. Rory. Have a nice day.”

She turned and scampered across the street, ducking into a break in traffic without even waiting for the light. The rain had a few more moments to prick her with its damp needles before she dipped under the awning outside the restaurant. She took a moment to straighten her clothing as much as possible. She’d have to slip into the bathroom before going back to work, and hope she could make herself presentable again with a little creative use of the hand dryer.

She heard footsteps at her back, and the snap of an umbrella closing. She was blocking the door. It wasn’t until she stepped aside that she realized Derek had come up behind her and was still watching her with that unnerving, deadpan silence. There was no way someone dressed like him was on his way to Friday’s.

Not her business. He didn’t say anything to her, so he was probably just waiting for her to get out of the way. She flashed him her patented Stephanie Miller Awkward Smile™ and slipped inside.

The hostess offered a brief smile, barely sparing a glance for Stephanie’s sodden clothing. “Table for one?”

“No, I’m here to meet—”

“Her brother,” Aaron said, and rose from one of the seats in the waiting area to pull her into a quick, tight hug, wet clothing and all. Of course he was perfectly dry, not one blond curl out of place and his typical
Men in Black
suit spotless. “You look like a wet cat. I told you to run.”

“You try running in heels.”

“Maybe I have. But that’s classified information.”

He glanced up as the bell over the door rang again. That cool, easy Aaron smile slid across his lips. Not for the first time, Stephanie envied him his casual composure.

Especially now, when he stepped past her and said, “Derek. I was starting to think you wouldn’t make it.”

Stephanie closed her eyes and prayed. Prayed that for once, she wasn’t about to end up completely embarrassed. It was a different Derek. It was a common enough name, right? Right. So her brother’s friend hadn’t just seen her making a complete ass of herself out in the rain. When she turned around, it would be a completely different man standing there.

“I was a little delayed,” Derek Rory said. Stephanie cringed and glanced over her shoulder, watching her brother clasp Derek’s hand with easy familiarity. Past her brother’s tousled head, Derek caught her eye with that wry not-smile. “Apparently by rescuing your sister.”

Oh.

Well.

Crap.

Chapter Two

Aaron, Derek thought, had the look of a man who was plotting something. And Derek was fairly sure he wouldn’t like what it was. The last time Aaron had had that look, Derek had ended up in Madrid. Naked. Covered in mud. He was still trying to get the photos off Aaron’s Facebook account. Thus far, his relentless untagging campaign had been unsuccessful.

That look meant trouble. And Derek was fairly sure it involved Aaron’s sister.

Across the table, Stephanie reached out and squeezed Aaron’s shoulder, her dark gray eyes alight with laughter. She had an easy playfulness to her that was engaging, until he almost forgot himself and laughed with her for no reason other than the sake of laughing. Even Aaron was a little bit lighter around her, his familiar quiet charm turning open and his laughter flowing freely every time he managed to make his sister sputter.

He’d had no idea who she was when he’d seen her standing in the rain, her dark hair laying in wet ribbons against her throat. He’d never have guessed she was Aaron’s sister. They were nothing alike. They didn’t even look alike, Aaron’s light blond hair and tanned skin and green eyes a distinct contrast to the pale sweetness of Stephanie’s complexion, framed by that lustrous—and still sodden—mahogany hair.

Aaron had always been self-contained, withdrawn in a way that Derek understood. A way that had made it easy for the two of them to be friends and formed the basis of a bond that had begun in college and continued throughout their lives. Stephanie was her brother’s polar opposite, her personality shining out from the moment she opened her mouth, bright and sweet and just a little bit clumsy. She couldn’t hide her emotions behind a mask.

And she blushed like a cherry. She was blushing right now, as she caught his eye and ducked her head with a self-conscious little flick of her hair.

“So then,” Stephanie continued, “Aaron just said ‘get the garbage bags’ with his face screwed up all serious, like he was this tiny MacGyver.”

Aaron lofted a brow. “It worked.”

“Until Dad grounded you for a month.”

“You were grounded, too.”

“
I
,” she said archly, “was just your accomplice. Not the mad genius who thought a pickup truck would make a perfect swimming pool.”

Aaron chuckled and lifted his drink in a toast. “Mad genius. I wonder if I can get that added to my badge.” He took a sip, watching Derek over the rim of his glass. “You’re quiet over there.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re an uptight pain in my ass and always have been.” Aaron snorted. “Steph, you want to see trouble, get a few beers in this guy. I remember this one time we stole the Dean’s—”

“I’m sure Miss Miller isn’t interested in my college mistakes.” Derek gave Aaron a hard look, then glanced at his watch. “I thought you had a flight to catch.”

Stephanie looked at Aaron. “You’re leaving? You just got back.”

“National security never sleeps. I, on the other hand, have been told I snore on international flights.” Aaron nudged his sister’s arm. “It just came up today. I’m shipping out in a few hours, but I didn’t want to miss our date.”

“It’s chicken tenders on my lunch break, not a posh night on the town.”

“Speaking of posh nights…”

Here it came. Derek closed his eyes and braced himself.

“Listen, Derek, I’m sorry to skip out on you, but since you’re in town maybe Stephanie can fill in and show you around.”

Aaron wasn’t even trying to be subtle, was he?

When Derek opened his eyes, Stephanie was staring down into her drink, her laughter gone. She really was lovely when she blushed, that pale skin lighting up with a luminous underglow. Aaron had put them both on the spot, and she was clearly mortified and waiting for him to make up some sort of excuse.

At the moment, with her dark lashes lowered so demurely and her lower lip creeping between her teeth, he couldn’t really think of one.

“I’d be delighted,” he said. “If it’s not too much of an imposition.”

“What?” Stephanie choked on her drink, then snapped up a napkin and dabbed at her lips. “Um. Right. No, not an imposition. I mean, I suck at being a tour guide, but I can try. There’s…um…stuff. In Miami.”

Derek fought back a smile. Barely. “Stuff. Sounds like a fascinating experience.”

Stephanie stuck her tongue out at him, and he shook his head with barely repressed amusement. She grumbled, snagged her brother’s suit coat, and slid to her feet. “A word, if you don’t mind, brother dearest?”

As he watched her drag Aaron away, Derek lingered on the sway of her hips.

Charming little brat. Distracting, in a rather baffling way. He wondered what Aaron was up to, maneuvering them into spending time together. It didn’t seem like a date; that wasn’t really Derek’s style, and Aaron would know that. He must have something else planned, but as Derek’s gaze roved the length of Stephanie’s body, he found he didn’t mind.

He was in Miami for business, but he might have to take a little time out for pleasure after all.

…

“I’m going to kill you,” Stephanie said, and dragged her brother to a halt near the salad bar.

Aaron just smiled. “I have to work. You try telling the Chief of Staff no. Not my fault.”

“Bull. You love playing chess-master, and you’re doing it right now. Some kind of knight takes queen endgame or something—”

“Do you even know how to play chess?”

“Not the point!” She threw her hands up. Why did her brothers always have to meddle? “You are not dumping your desperate, lonely friend off on me.”

“Does he look desperate or lonely?” Aaron sighed. “Seriously, Steph, just show him some of the tourist spots, give him a few brochures, maybe take him out to a club or two. He’s here on business. He won’t be in your hair the whole time. I’m just asking you to do me a favor. That’s all.”

She eyed him. She didn’t trust him one bit. “That’s all?”

“Promise.”

“I’d believe you more if I didn’t know you could cheat a lie detector test drunk.”

“All part of field training.”

“For all this classified information, you like to brag a lot.”

“Half of it’s lies anyway.” He looked over his shoulder with a lopsided smile. “He’s watching you.”

Stephanie’s stomach dropped out. She peeked past Aaron and immediately met Derek’s eyes, scintillating and dark and hot under sharply defined black brows. Damn it. Why did
she
feel like the one who’d been caught staring? The tips of her ears burned, and she jerked back, shifting until her brother was a shield between herself and those intense blue eyes.

“I mean it, Aaron,” she warned. “This had better not be a setup.”

“It’s not. Trust me, Derek’s not your type.”

“Thanks,” she muttered. Like Aaron knew her type. In Aaron’s eyes, her “type” was defined by a carefully-crafted psychological profile that met all her brother’s criteria for someone good enough for his little sister. The kind of man he thought she needed was dull, boring, fatuous, and talked far too much. He’d set her up with enough of them. By contrast, Derek’s quiet efficiency was almost refreshing. He said what he needed to say, direct and to the point, without wasting words. And—

—and she was not seriously thinking about this.

With a groan, she shoved her hair out of her face. “Still hate you. I’ll be in the bathroom for the next half hour.”

“Doing what?”

“Making myself look human again,” she grumbled, and stalked away.

If she was going to be forced into this, she could at least do it without mascara in her
mouth
.

…

By the time Stephanie returned from the bathroom, their appetizers had arrived. Derek flipped his napkin over to hide the ink scribbled across one side.
Kelly, 555-3257.
The waitress had slipped him her number. She wouldn’t be the first. He knew how women saw him. His clothing, his demeanor, everything about him screamed
money.
Some women didn’t care; his last girlfriend had been a street painter who’d made a statement by painting anti-war graffiti on his imported Italian suits.

But some? Thought it wouldn’t hurt if he had the cute waitress’s phone number, just in case he wanted to cast her in her own Cinderella story.

Too bad he wasn’t the Prince Charming type.

He forgot the waitress entirely when Stephanie reappeared, as crisp and fresh as if she’d had a wardrobe team waiting for her in the bathroom. She’d refreshed her makeup, her lips gleaming a luscious gloss pink, and managed to tease her wet hair up into an elegant spray of coiling tendrils. Her blouse was almost fully dry, her skirt neat.

And she still managed to trip over her heels, and stumbled into her seat with a little “oof
.
”

He hid his smile behind his drink. “So that’s what you look like dry, Miss Miller.”

“What?” She snapped her head up and nearly dropped her purse. “Right, oh—I…um, the hand dryer. You know. Took my clothes off and—I mean, I wasn’t naked or anything! I just…”

“…need to be quiet,” Aaron said with a groan. “I really don’t want to know this—ow!”

Stephanie elbowed him in the side, then turned a sweet smile on Derek. “So what kind of business brings you to Miami?”

“I’m a marketing analyst in D.C. My firm sent me to scout new business opportunities in the Florida market.”

She shot Aaron a needling look. “So you conveniently have a friend who works in marketing show up this week, and conveniently have to leave and dump him on me?”

Aaron shrugged nonchalantly. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Like hell. You think I need help.”

“Did I say that?”

Derek had the feeling he was standing on the sidelines of an ongoing battle, and was about to be used as a weapon. “Help with what, if I might ask?”

“Nothing,” Stephanie said quickly, just as Aaron said, “Stephanie’s working on landing angel investors for her company’s latest project.”

“I see.”
So that’s what this is about.
Derek was almost relieved. An awkward near-blind date would have been a disaster. He drummed his fingers on the table. “And you’ll need a viable sales pitch, won’t you?”

“Yes, but I have it under control.” Her smile was tight. “I’d hate to waste your time.”

“Since Aaron has apparently ‘dumped’ me on you, it’s more a waste of your time, isn’t it?”

She cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Of course not.”

Awkward silence descended. Stephanie looked anywhere but at him, while Aaron suddenly found something outside the window fascinating. The longer Derek watched her, the more Stephanie squirmed in her seat, a pretty little scowl drawing her brows together. Aaron nudged Stephanie. “You should take Derek to that new bar. The one right on the beach. A little sun and sand might get him to defrost.”

“…hate you,” she muttered.

“I’ll be fine on my own.” Derek toyed with a cocktail shrimp. “What account are you working on, Stephanie?”

For a moment she looked as if she might refuse to answer, her stubborn little jaw setting, but with a sigh she said, “We’re trying to fund an initiative to build low-income health clinics, but we need investor backing. It’s the Weyland Project. If I make this happen, I keep my job.”

He gave a small nod. “Doesn’t sound like the ideal environment, working under duress.”

“I have to prove myself.” There it was—that obstinate set to her chin again. “And I will.”

“I’d like to see your proposal.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Your proposal. Do you have it with you?”

“Yes, but…” She cast Aaron a helpless glance, but her brother was once again entranced by the sidewalk outside. With a sigh, Stephanie dug in her purse and pulled out a pale blue folder. “It’s a little damp. I got caught in the rain.”

“I remember.”

“Shut up.”

Derek restrained a smile and opened the folder to scan through the pages. The level of detail and meticulous research was impressive, her plan well-calculated with a clearly outlined project architecture. Except… “This is an extremely costly venture. You’d have better luck if you broke down the funding requirements to explain exactly how investment monies will be allocated. Investors feel more secure if they see where their money is going.”

“Thanks.” She practically snatched it out of his hand. Was she so proud that she couldn’t take a little advice? But then she smiled, a touch apologetically. “Really. Thank you. I’m meeting a potential investor today, so I guess I’m nervous.”

“If you need—”

“I don’t need anything.” Her smile chilled a few degrees. “I’m fine. Really.”

Their entrees arrived, effectively ending the argument. Stephanie avoided so much as looking in his direction while she ate. Aaron was silent, more withdrawn than normal, and Derek wondered if, were he not here, they would be talking and teasing and relaxing in a way he’d only ever seen from a distance. His own childhood had been nothing like theirs. He’d met Aaron’s brothers, and the bond between them was worth more than any money. Derek was an only child. He came from money, but he’d learned early on that money couldn’t buy happiness. Couldn’t buy anything worth having.

“—Derek?”

He realized Stephanie had been trying to get his attention, and he glanced up from his plate. “Hm?”

“Aaron asked where you were staying.”

“The Doubletree.”

Aaron studied him through narrowed eyes. “You all right?”

“I’m fine.” He always wondered how Aaron could tell the difference, but he supposed that was what friends were for. He’d always been quiet; his father had always told him the less he spoke, the better. But they were still watching him expectantly, so he said, “I’ve just got a lot on my mind. Business.”

Aaron reached inside his coat pocket for his wallet. “I should get moving and leave you two to talk shop.”

Stephanie snagged his arm. “But—”

“Don’t worry, Derek’s harmless.”

Derek ran his hand through his hair. “
Derek
is right here and can speak for himself,” he said.

Stephanie gritted her teeth and stood. “If you two want to stay here and lock antlers or do keg stands or whatever former frat boys do, I’ve got to get back to work. Thanks for lunch, Aaron.” That venom-sweet smile turned on Derek again. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Rory.”